


salvager

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Craig saves Tweek from his parents in a very atypical way.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	salvager

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! thanks for clicking on my fic!  
first of all, i'd like to note that they are not the poster couple for a healthy relationship. their personalities are pretty dramatized, and this is obviously not how something like this would play out in reality.  
their ages aren't specified in the fic, but they're juniors in high school, making them between 16-17.  
this fic is definitely fucked up in multiple ways, and while tweek's parents giving him the coffee is downplayed, i changed their personalities quite a bit to give tweek a bad homelife. sorry mr and mrs tweek, rest in pieces  
again, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Craig Tucker does not like coffee.

He says this to anyone who passes him by while he’s walking by the Tweak Bros. Coffee shop, and he says it to Mr. and Mrs. Tweak, just to drill the idea in that their coffee isn’t worth shit to him. He’s just here to get iced tea, and a straight black coffee to surprise Tricia with when he gets home.

He checks the time on his phone. It’s 8:00 pm, so he’s just in time to be the last customer before the shop closes down for the night. The door creaks when he opens it and peeks inside, holding open the door with one of his boots. There are voices echoing from the empty coffee shop, and Craig has never been one to miss out on learning secrets.

Craig walks inside the shop and closes the door silently, stepping closer to the staff room. He bends down to get a good look through the small window above the lock on the door, and the first thing he notices is a bright blonde bush of hair on the head of a teenage boy. Across from the boy are two people that look like his parents, both with scowls on their faces. He wishes the window was bigger, but he’ll take what he can get.

The boy sniffles and turns away from his parents, and Craig instantly recognizes him. Tweek Tweak. Craig doesn’t know him, but he does know of him; he had just never made the connection between his last name and the name of the coffee shop. Tweek’s father has his fists bunched up, his eyes nearly searing holes in the wall behind his son. “Do you know how many orders you failed to make properly today, Tweek?” The father asks, advancing towards his son. Tweek flinches visibly.

“Ah, uh. Five?” Tweek asks, twitching backwards. His hands are trembling at his size, grabbing at his thighs to give his hands something to do. 

“Five.” Mr. Tweak says calmly. “At least you know how to fucking count, huh? You know what happens now, don’t you?”

Tweek nods miserably, stepping towards his father. Craig grips the handle to the staff door, and tries to jiggle it, but it’s locked from the inside. Fuck. Mr. Tweak raises one of his hands and smacks Tweek across the face, hard. Tweek cowers, but doesn’t move, and that makes Craig’s stomach fill up with dread.

Mr. Tweak lands the second and third slap on Tweek’s shoulders, and Craig can see tears slipping from Tweek’s eyes, leaving trails on his cheeks as they slide down his face. “I keep trying to teach you,” Mr. Tweak says, grabbing a handful of Tweek’s hair and dragging him forward. “But you never fucking learn. Are you that stupid? Do I need to send you to a mental hospital? A special ed school?”

“N-no, sir,” Tweek mumbles. Craig looks away for the last two slaps, unable to continue watching his classmate get beaten. Mr. Tweak shakes his head when he’s done, and Craig has pried an eye open to continue watching.

“Your mother and I are going home. You are to stay here until this place is spotless, and if it isn’t, you can add another three slaps to your total tomorrow.” A sneer curls over Mr. Tweak’s face, and Tweek nods, staring at the ground. Red handprints are beginning to form on his face. Craig is so busy watching his pale skin redden that he almost forgets to process what Mr. Tweak said. 

Craig flings himself away from the door and behind the counter just as Tweek’s parents unlock and open the staff room door to leave. They mutter to each other as they exit the coffee shop, slamming the door shut. Craig creeps back over the door to hear Tweek sobbing, his back sliding against the door. Craig aches for his sake, aches for him in general. A terrible, horrible idea is forming in his mind, born out of some kind of combination of rage and desire. 

He grabs one of the chairs and drags it over to the door, sliding it under the handle to prevent Tweek from leaving the room. He adds another table next to it just for good measure, and he gets out of there as fast as he can, not wanting to hear Tweek scream about how he’s locked in. 

~~~ 

It takes Craig one hour to prepare for his plan. 

First, he goes into the garage to open his father’s safe. Inside are three hunting knives and a Glock 17, complete with more than adequate stores of ammo. He empties out his backpack and slides two of the hunting knives in, opting to keep the second one hooked onto the belt he purchased at Jimbo’s Guns for this exact purpose. He loads the gun and steps outside for a moment, shooting the ground to test it out. He’s almost knocked back, but his father has been making him go to the shooting range for years now as a failed attempt to straighten him out. It’s never worked, but maybe his father will be happy that Craig’s finally putting his skills to good use. Unfortunately, he’ll never find out.

The rest of the ammo goes in his backpack along with the knives, but if all goes well, he won’t need any of this. The things he’ll really need are the things that he’s already set out near the front door, guaranteeing that he won’t forget them. Craig picks up the gag and the rope, eyeing the length that he cut. It should be enough, but he’s not entirely sure. He’ll just have to hope for the best.

Craig doesn’t have his drivers license yet, but he doubts the police will spend too much time on that fact if they find out the other activity he has planned tonight. He takes his dad’s keys from the rack and gets into his car, setting his backpack on the passenger seat. He revs up the engine and drives to the coffee shop at least ten miles over the speed limit, parking in front and grabbing his equipment as he steps inside. He pulls the chair away from the staff room door and knocks, peering in through the window.

Tweek walks to the door and opens it carefully, peering through. Once he knows it’s unlocked, Craig pushes the door open and steps inside, shutting it behind him.

“Look,” Craig says. “You can make this easy for me and stay still, or I can do this with force. It’s your choice.” Tweek seems to look over him, scanning him for all the advantages Craig has on him. Tweek shakes his head and shudders, backing himself into a corner. “Alright. That’s fine. I love doing things the hard way. It’s no fun if you’re too easy.”

Craig locks the door and uncoils the length of rope, snapping it taut in his hands. He adjusts the gag in his hands and pushes Tweek further against the wall, holding him up with a leg between the shorter boy’s. He flips him around and pushes his fingers into Tweek’s mouth, pushing the gag in as well and tying it around the back of his head. Tweek whines frantically and tries to kick back at Craig, but the kick is relatively weak. 

Craig returns it with one of his own and Tweek slumps to his knees as Craig ties his hands together with the rope, pulling it tightly against his wrists. He takes a second piece and ties his ankles together as well. Tweek is still struggling, letting out little pants as he tries to slip out of the rope. Craig double knots them just to be sure and hauls Tweek up, suddenly glad that he’s underweight. He carries the smaller boy out to his car, opening the trunk and placing him inside. Tweek stares at him desperately.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Craig says, though he knows it must not sound too convincing. “The car ride is short. I’ll feed you when I get home.” He shuts the trunk, ignoring Tweek’s muffled wail, and gets in the car, firing it up and heading home. He opens the door to his house before taking Tweek out of the trunk, carrying him carefully inside to avoid too much noise. 

Tweek seems much heavier when he’s being carried up the stairs, but Craig manages it anyway, kicking the door shut behind him and bringing Tweek up to his room. He drops him on the bed and unties his arms, adjusting the rope so that only one arm is tied to the post of his bed. After untying the rest of his limbs, Craig slowly removes the gag, hesitating as Tweek gasps.

“Don’t scream,” Craig mutters, taking some blankets and pillows out of his closet to lay in front of Tweek, who’s still shivering. “Listen. I’m not going to hurt you. That’s not my intention. I’m going to keep you here until your parents learn to keep their hands away from you. Now, do you want any food?”

Tweek keeps looking away from him, but he does glance up to look at Craig every few seconds, as if he’s trying to gauge his truthfulness through his appearance. “A sandwich, please,” Tweek says eventually. H-ham and cheese.” 

Craig nods and leaves his room, locking his door as he leaves. For all he knows, this could be a ploy for Tweek to try and escape. While he’s downstairs, he gets Tweek a cup of water and makes him two full sandwiches, splitting them both in half. He places them on a plate and carries them back upstairs, unlocking his door and placing the plate in front of Tweek, who’s still sitting in the same position he was earlier. He’s shaking violently.

Tweek pokes at the sandwich at first, as if he’s concerned that it might be filled with poison, but when he accepts that they’re safe, he devours both of them quickly, leaving the crusts behind. “Now that you’re not hungry, I’m going to lay down some rules. All of them are going to be followed.”

Craig has thought this out in advance; actually, it took up most of the one hour he spent preparing for his abduction. “I’ll let you away from my bed to shower and use the bathroom, but that’s it. If you try to get out when you’re not going to do either of those things, you’re in trouble. If either of my parents enter the room or knock on the door, you’re to hide under my bed. You can talk, but you’re not to scream or be too loud or someone may hear you. Tomorrow I will be taking the clothes you’re wearing now away. You can wear mine or be naked. It’s your choice.”

He has a few more rules that he could share with Tweek, but he decides not to share them unless Tweek actively breaks one. “If you’re not comfortable, tell me and I’ll get you more blankets. Sleep well,” Craig tells him, and he strips his shirt off and throws it on the ground. Tweek watches him silently, his pupils fattening slightly. He shimmies out of his pants and throws those on top of his shirt, walking to the door in his boxers to turn off the light. He gets into bed and pulls the comforter over himself. He falls asleep to the sound of Tweek’s heavy, erratic breathing.

~~~ 

Craig wakes up to Tweek hyperventilating loudly, his hands pressed to his face. His hair is slick with sweat and pressed to his forehead as he curls up into a ball. Two of his fingers are prodding at his lips, like he wants to suck on them but he doesn’t want anyone to see. 

“You smell like sweat,” Craig says, and Tweek flinches.

“Sorry.”

Craig shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m going to take you to the shower. Don’t try and get away from me.” He unties Tweek’s wrist from the rope and the smaller boy immediately stretches his arms, seeming pleased with the moment of freedom. “Strip.”

“I-in front of you?” Tweek asks nervously, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Yes. I’m keeping your clothes out here. You’re less likely to escape if you’re naked,” Craig reasons, and Tweek nods. He slowly pulls his shirt up and Craig can’t help but watch the strip of skin above his shorts grow larger until Craig can see his nipples. He feels spit gathering in his mouth and swallows it down as Tweek fully pulls his shirt off. He forces himself to look away as Tweek slides his pants and boxers down in one swoop. 

Craig looks again and hisses through his teeth. Tweek is about average in the dick department, but his ass is chubby and Craig tucks his hands into his pockets to prevent them from wandering. If he intends to be taken seriously by Tweek, he can’t be thinking about this while the other boy is around. Craig opens the door, shows him how to use the shower, throws some of Craig’s baggy clothes into there, and shuts the door with more force than necessary.

Fuck. Craig has a semi just from seeing Tweek like that, and he’s fucking aching to call Tweek back and grab a handful of his ass. When his boner starts to get uncomfortable against the front of his boxers, he pushes them down to his knees, settling onto his bed. He grips his cock with one hand and slides his fingers up the shaft, dragging his thumb over the slit. He thinks about Tweek whining and hovering over Craig’s dick, his hole spread open by his fingers.

“Do you want to be fucked?” Craig asks imaginary Tweek, who jerks his head up and down. Craig moans and stretches over to his dresser, rummaging to find the lube. He spreads it over his dick and grips himself with more force, panting as he imagines Tweek sinking slowly onto his cock, knees spread wide as he takes as much as he can. Craig makes a circle with his fingers and fucks up onto his own hand, the jerks of his hips becoming less focused as time passes.

He thinks of Tweek with his face pressed into the pillow, come dripping out of his hole and down onto the insides of his thighs. He’s so ridiculously close, but then he hears the water in the shower come to a sudden stop. He doesn’t have time to finish at this rate, so he tucks himself back into his boxers and folds his legs together on his bed, placing a pillow on his lap to hide his boner.

Tweek comes out of the bathroom with Craig’s sweatpants sagging around his waist, his shirt nearly hanging to his knees. Craig swallows the lump in his throat and grabs the rope, ready to tie Tweek back to the post, but then he notices the way that Tweek’s looking at the rope. He’s licking his lips. His tongue flicks out to trace over his upper lip, and Craig can’t hold himself back anymore. He stands up and grips Tweek by his shoulders. He looks panicked, and Craig wants to tell him that he’s done nothing wrong, but that wouldn’t be exactly true.

Instead, Craig pushes him against the wall and holds him up, Tweek’s legs naturally wrapping around Craig’s waist for stability. The smaller boy grunts softly and Craig presses his lips to Tweek’s, gauging for a response. Tweek gasps into Craig’s mouth and Craig stuffs his tongue into the opening, sliding it along Tweek’s own. 

Craig reaches his arms around to grab two handfuls of Tweek’s ass, and he grinds forward hesitantly for friction, his eyes shutting as his mouth opens wider to accommodate for Craig’s tongue. Craig pulls him away from the wall and pushes him down onto the floor, shoving Tweek down onto his back and kissing him with vigor. Tweek whines, his hands searching for anything to grab onto. 

Craig slides his hand into the front of Tweek’s pants, and Tweek wails as Craig grips his cock, sliding his hand along it slowly to try and raise it to full hardness. Craig doesn’t have that issue; he’s burning with the need to come already as his lips slide against Tweek’s.

“Nuh,” Tweek says, trying to pull Craig’s hands out of his pants, but Craig silences him with a further deep kiss as Tweek hardens in his hand, hips involuntarily jerking forward to meet Craig’s, who grinds furiously against Tweek. He wants to put his hand down the back of Tweek’s pants, to slide his fingers along his hole, but he’s worried that he’ll will freak out if Craig does something like that too early. Instead, he keeps slowly working Tweek to completion.

“Hold on,” Craig whispers, flipping Tweek over to rest him on his stomach. He pulls his boxers further down and groans at the feeling of his skin on Tweek’s shorts. It just takes a few more quick jerks of Craig’s hands before Tweek is coming all over himself, crying out. Craig fucks up against Tweek’s ass a few more times before finishing as well, his lips settling on Tweek’s shoulder as he pants animalistically. 

Neither of them speak for a few more minutes until Tweek finally grunts and rolls over. “You’re squishing me,” he says, and Craig gets off of him. He moves to his dresser and grabs Tweek a new pair of shorts, watching as Tweek changes out of his stained ones and into the cleaner pair. 

Craig actually ties Tweek up this time, much to Tweek’s complaint. “Breakfast?” he asks.

“Pancakes and bacon,” Tweek says, and Craig heads downstairs to start making them.

~~~ 

Tweek doesn’t say much to Craig for the rest of the day, and Craig trusts him just enough to head downstairs for an hour or two to work on an essay for school. He skipped today, and he’ll likely skip tomorrow, but it can’t hurt to keep his grades up while he’s taking care of Tweek.

Craig writes a few pages of his essay and decides to finish it tomorrow, heading upstairs to go see how Tweek’s doing. He can hear little noises coming out of his room, and he considers scolding him for it, but the thoughts vanish from his mind when he sees Tweek crying, wrapped up in his blankets as he sobs openly. Craig tentatively walks up to him and places a light hand on his shoulder. He’s not sure if he should be asking this, but he does anyway. “What’s wrong?”

Tweek shakes Craig’s hand away from him, and he keeps it away, watching him for a response. “What do you fu-fucking think?” He hisses, wiping his tears away with the comforter. They keep coming, so it’s pointless.

“I didn’t just take you from your parents for no reason,” Craig protests. “They were hitting you. I saw you crying.”

Tweek glances up to stare at Craig. “You did?” He laughs humorlessly. “I just thought I was really unlucky or something.”

Craig shakes his head. “Listen. I could return you to your parents if you really want me to, but I think you’re better off here. Here, you get fed. I don’t hit you,” he points out, and Tweek wipes his face snottily with a hand. When Craig tries to touch him this time, he doesn’t resist. “I’m sorry, but you deserve better than them.” 

Tweek shakes his head. “I mess up my coffee orders every single day. I can’t do anything right!” His body starts to shake with further sobs and Craig wraps his arms around the smaller boy, pulling their chests together. Craig presses his lips to Tweek’s neck and he freezes.

“You haven’t done anything wrong here,” Craig tells him quietly. “Now, do you want me to let you go? Do you want to leave and never see me again? Tell everyone what I’ve done to you?”

Tweek watches him and slowly shakes his head, still sniffling slightly. “I’d rather be with you,” he mumbles, and Craig wants to make him repeat it louder, but he doesn’t. Instead, he hesitantly unties Tweek from his bonds and moves him up to Craig’s bed, tying one of his wrists to the post while still keeping him comfortable.

“Get some rest,” Craig says, and he leaves the room, his heart pounding in his chest with feelings that he decides not to put into words.

~~~

After that, Tweek is more receptive to Craig’s touches, and he doesn’t flinch when Craig wraps his hand around his dick; actually, he reaches into Craig’s pants as well to try and match his pace. He even initiates it sometimes, leaning in for a kiss in the middle of the night or when they’ve finished eating and their mouths still taste like dinner.

“Craaaaaig,” Tweek whines. Craig is sitting at his desk. He’s starting to write two of each assignment to submit one as Tweek’s. As much as he wants to keep Tweek with him here for as long as he can, he’d feel bad if Tweek flunked out of school because of Craig. “Please, man. I really need you.”

Craig shakes his head and kicks his leg out gently, pushing Tweek away from where he’s trying to slide onto Craig’s lap. Tweek has been at this for almost half an hour, trying desperately to get Craig to jerk him off. He’s almost broken a few times, but he needs to get this work done. “You’ll have to wait. I’m not getting you off until I’m done with your work.”

Tweek whimpers. He’s naked from the waist down, and Craig can see him brushing his fingertips over his hole to try and entice Craig. As much as Craig wants to replace Tweek’s fingers with his own, he can’t do it now. “Please. I’ll just do you, if you want. I just need something, hng.”

Craig sighs and slides his chair out a little, giving room under his desk. “Fine. Get under there and suck me off if you need me so badly.” Tweek almost sounds like he’s purring, pleased, and he immediately takes his place under Craig’s desk, salivating as he pulls the taller boy’s pants down. 

He’s starting to think that this isn’t a great idea when Tweek presses his mouth against Craig’s boxers, licking at his cock through the thin fabric. Craig’s fingers twitch and he deletes the letters he accidentally typed in his finger spasm. This is fine. He can do this.

Tweek gets tired of licking him through his boxers soon enough, and he pulls them down too, staring at Craig’s dick as if it’s something to be worshipped. He is on his knees, after all. Tweek takes the head of his cock into his mouth, carefully, his lips spread in a circle as Craig thickens with arousal. Tweek moans and slides further down, taking another few inches in. 

Craig keeps one of his hands on the keyboard and pushes the other through Tweek’s hair, grabbing a handful of it and pulling it. Tweek moans wantonly and suckles on Craig, spreading his knees as he reaches one hand down to start to jerk himself off. 

He’s good at this, for someone who claims to be a virgin. He’s really fucking good at this. Tweek pulls off and coughs, briefly, before sliding all the way back down. He uses one hand to rub at the two inches that he’s still struggling to take as he begins to move his lips, sliding forward and back. Craig’s hips are rocking casually, trying to force more of himself into Tweek’s mouth, and Tweek whines with every light thrust. “Getting close,” Craig warns him, and Tweek nods. If he stays, he knows what’s going to happen.

Craig grips his hair and pulls him forward roughly, tears forming in Tweek’s eyes as he fits Craig into his mouth. Craig grinds his hips up against Tweek’s face as he comes and Tweek swallows it all, hips jerking furiously as he fucks against Tweek’s reddened lips. 

Tweek pulls off of him, breathing heavily and coughing as he swallows the rest of his mouthful down, slumping down to the floor. Craig hadn’t even noticed that he’s finished, but he clearly has, because the front of his boxers are stained and his eyes are lidded with a post-orgasmic haze.

“Feeling a little better?” Craig asks, trying to prevent the fondness from seeping into his tone. He knows he’s failing, because Tweek is smiling even though there’s drops of come on his lips that he’s yet to lick off. 

“Yeah. Thanks,” he says, and leans up and gives Craig a light peck before returning to his spot, laying down on his blankets and falling asleep. Craig writes another page of essay before he decides to stop, laying down next to Tweek and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy’s body, passing out almost instantly.

~~~

Tweek is in a rage. It’s obvious by the angry tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and the way his foot is stamping erratically on the ground, as if Craig’s very existence is making him want to kill someone. “I want to go downstairs! I haven’t been out of this room in over a week! Your parents aren’t even home!”

Craig stands over him, folding his arms over his chest. “If you go downstairs, my parents might come home and see you, and then they’ll take you away from me. You wouldn’t want that. There are already missing signs posted around the neighborhood for you.”

Of course, Tweek already knows about this. They watch the news together sometimes on Craig’s computer, and recently some of the news has been about the missing boy. Nobody’s suspected Craig yet, but he doesn’t know if his good luck will continue forever. He has to be on high alert. 

“At least my fucking parents let me leave my room!” Tweek screams, and Craig glares at him, pressing a finger to his lips. Tweek shakes his head violently. “No! I won’t be quiet! Maybe it’d be better if I was still with my parents!” Tweek shouts, and the room goes dead silent. Craig’s hands are twitching, and Tweek’s eyes are widening as if he just realized the meaning of the words that left his mouth.

“I didn’t-“ Tweek starts, but Craig is already stepping towards him, one hand extended. He grips Tweek’s throat with his hand, fingers digging bruises into the already sensitive skin. He uses his other hand to grab Tweek by the waist, releasing him and throwing him onto the bed as he unties the rope and prepares to use it for other things.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I understood you properly,” Craig says, smoothly. “Because no sane person would say something like that.” He tears the clothes on Tweek’s bottom half off, spreading his knees and tying them down. He lets Tweek’s hands go free, his head pressed against the comforter. “So, could you repeat that again for me? Let me hear what you have to say?”

Tweek moans and tries to shift, but Craig has given him little leeway to move. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, fuck. Punish me,” he says, turning and watching as Craig grabs the lube and dips his fingers in it, spreading the substance over his fingers. He pushes one against Tweek’s twitching hole, pushing past the resistance and sliding it in up to the knuckle. Tweek suddenly quiets as Craig slowly thrusts his finger, against Tweek’s walls.

“Another,” Tweek grunts after a moment, and Craig pulls his finger out, lubes it up again, and slides two in. Tweek’s head jerks in response, and Craig continues wiggling his fingers, curling them as he looks for Tweek’s prostate. He knows immediately when he’s found it; Tweek cries out desperately and writhes as Craig pushes against it. “Oh, oh, fuck.”

Craig moves his other hand over to grip Tweek’s neck, squeezing it just enough to slightly restrict his air flow. “You’ve been bad, Tweek. A bad boy. I thought you liked it here.” 

Tweek sobs and tries to spread his legs further. “No, no, I do, it was a mistake, I swear.” It all comes out in one breath, and Craig squeezes him a little tighter as he slips a third finger in along with the first two. Tweek slumps down, releasing all of the stress in his body. He’s hard, his dick hanging red between his legs, but Craig isn’t going to let him come until it’s ideal for him.

Craig purposefully avoids Tweek’s prostate this time, pushing around it as Tweek begs. “Please, Craig, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“Elaborate,” Craig says, coldly, and Tweek shivers as he tries to rock his body back on Craig’s fingers, fucking himself pathetically on them.

“When I’m in the shower, and I have my fingers in myself, I keep thinking that it’s you, your dick, filling me up,” Tweek moans as Craig rewards him with a bite to his shoulder. “I just want to be stuffed with it. My mouth, my ass, whatever, I just always want you inside of me. Suh-sometimes I think about you fucking me in front of my parents, in front of the whole town, so they can all see me like this, they can all know that I belong to you.” 

For some reason this makes Craig angry. Tweek is one of his possessions, but he could never let anyone else see Tweek like this; Tweek in all of his debauched glory is one of the things that only Craig is allowed to see, and only Craig is allowed to bring him to this point. Craig’s fingers thrust inside of him a few more times before they pull out and Craig slathers some lube on his cock, carefully covering every inch of himself. 

The head of Craig’s cock bumps against Tweek’s hole and Tweek lets out another heavy breath. “Take me, please,” Tweek says, and he sounds so adoring that Craig couldn’t resist even if he wanted to.

“Yeah,” Craig grunts. The head of his cock pops inside of Tweek’s hole and the smaller boy lets out a gasp, tensing up, his back arching as he tries to accommodate to the width. Craig sighs happily as Tweek’s flutters around him. He squeezes Tweek’s throat to distract him as he slides the rest of the way in with one powerful thrust, and Tweek would have screamed had it not been for the lack of air.

“Good, good, yes,” Tweek mumbles incoherently. His mouth is open and he’s drooling slightly onto the pillow. “Fuck, so big, you’re so big, Craig.”

“I know, honey,” Craig whispers. He stays still for a moment after that to let Tweek adjust to the intrusion. “You’re a good boy. You’re so good for me, I’m so lucky to have you here.” Craig slowly starts moving, his hips grinding against Tweek’s as he pushes in, carefully setting a smooth pace. Tweek rocks backwards slightly to try and take more of Craig in, and he’s punished by a light smack to his left ass cheek. “Who’s in control here?” he asks Tweek, and Tweek shakes his head, moaning.

“Y-you are, I belong to you, fuck,” Tweek sobs. Craig adjusts his angle to hit Tweek’s prostate and grinds up against it, causing Tweek to whimper. “So close, fuck.” He tries to reach down and grab at his cock, but Craig smacks his hand away, squeezing Tweek’s throat harder with one hand. He sinks his teeth into Tweek’s shoulder, sucking at the purpling mark. 

“If you’re going to come, you’re going to do it only on my dick. That’s all you need, sweetheart. You need my cock more than anything.” Craig says. He holds Tweek’s hands together at the wrists and slams into him four times, which is all it takes for Tweek to come all over himself, tears in his eyes. Tweek’s hole spasms around Craig and Craig pumps into him a few more times, coming inside of his… boyfriend? Friend? He doesn’t know, but he suddenly doesn’t think it matters as he pulls out, his globby come slipping out of Tweek’s swollen hole.

Craig collapses on top of him, sucking two more hickeys onto Tweek’s neck as the sated, happy feeling grows within him. He removes his hand from Tweek’s bruised throat and flips him over to kiss him. Tweek smiles, and Craig’s heart pulses rapidly within his chest. He unties Tweek and carries him to the shower, carding his soapy fingers through Tweek’s messy locks. “Mph,” Tweek grunts happily and kisses Craig again; this time, they stay like that, making out against the shower wall for what feels like days. 

When they finally get out of the shower, Craig decides to forgo the rope; Tweek still has light marks on his wrists from the pressure. He simply dries him off and pulls him into bed, wrapping his arms carefully around the smaller boy. Tweek’s face nuzzles into his neck and Craig swallows his feelings, gripping Tweek tightly as he dozes off to sleep.

~~~

It’s the middle of the night, and Tweek is still awake. He feels Craig’s strong arms wrapped tightly around him, and the bruises on his neck still burn pleasantly when he brings a finger up to prod at them. He stretches his legs and his thighs and ass shiver with the exertion after the abuse they were put through earlier. 

Tweek hates himself for having liked it, and he hates himself for not hating Craig. He feels warm in Craig’s arms, safer than he has in a while, but he’s starting to doubt even those feelings. 

Craig is his kidnapper. He was stolen from the coffee shop late at night and brought here, tied up and gagged, and there’s no way he should be able to have feelings for anyone who did that. Every time he tries to convince himself of that, he flashes back to Craig bending him over and fucking him, tenderly calling him ‘sweetheart’ as Tweek screams for more.

He can’t do this anymore. He needs to prove to himself that he’s not crazy, that he doesn’t have feelings for Craig, and finally Craig has made a mistake that allows him to do just that. He slips out of Craig’s arms and the larger boy groans in his sleep as Tweek open’s Craig’s dresser and grabs some oversized clothes. He puts them on and inhales the scent of Craig’s cologne that’s seeped into the fabric.

This is all he has. When Craig brought him here, he brought him with his clothes and nothing else. Even his clothes have been thrown away in favor of Craig’s. There’s nothing left for him here, besides the boy who’s still sleeping peacefully in bed, oblivious to the escape of his hostage.

Now, he can prove it. He doesn’t have feelings for Craig. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave. He pulls open Craig’s door and looks back on him one last time, touching the hickeys on his neck in the process. They’ll last for a week before fully fading, which will be enough time for Tweek to forget this ever happened. He’s not sure he wants to.  
Tweek walks out the door, creeps down the stairs, and exits the house, shutting the door gently behind him. The air is cold, and Tweek has almost forgotten what that feels like on his sensitive skin. He wishes he had brought a sweatshirt, and he wishes he had stolen the keys to the car, but he’s not going back into the house. If he does, he’ll see Craig, and he’ll stay.

Tweek can’t go back to his parents, and he can’t go to any of his friends houses, or they might find out where he was and Craig would get charged and arrested. The first place he thinks of is the playground. It’s almost fully abandoned. The slides have broken down, and the mayor refuses to put funds aside to fix it. In an act of rebellion, parents have stopped their children from going. Tweek misses the playground, but he’s glad it’s so broken down now. It’s a perfect hideout.

It takes him thirty minutes to walk to the playground, and another ten to find the ideal place to hide. He sits under one of the slides and slides his arms back into the sleeves, pulling the shirt over the pants to keep himself warm. He has no idea what time it is, and he has no idea how he’s going to get his hands on food and water without being seen by the public, but he decides that all of that can be figured out tomorrow. 

He lays down on the mulch, which is distinctly uncomfortable, and it takes him a while to fall asleep. As he stares up at the cobweb-covered bottom of the broken slide, he finds himself wishing that Craig was here.

~~~

Craig wakes up to an empty bed and a silent room.

Normally, Tweek would be awake by now, pawing at him to rouse him. This time, he wakes up on his own, and when he checks his clock, it’s already noon. He’s been sleeping for a while, but that’s not his biggest issue.

Craig hops off of the bed and searches his room, but there’s no breathing other than his own, which gets progressively faster as he looks under his bed and doesn’t find Tweek. He looks inside his bathroom, but there’s no Tweek there. He leaves his room and hunts through his entire house, and when his parents yell at him for getting up late, he ignores them and tells them that he’s looking for something important. Something of his.

Then, he goes back upstairs and it hits him; Tweek escaped. Craig had been so fucking stupid to trust him without tying him up, and he’s paid the price. He opens his computer and clicks on the news, but there’s been no updates on the Tweek situation. Unless the news is being especially slow today, he hasn’t been found by anyone, which is a small relief.

Craig whips up some food and takes the same bag he used to originally capture Tweek with him as he drives around town. The first place he stops is the Tweak house, and while he doubts Tweek would rather be with his parents than with him, he doesn’t know at this point. If Tweek is willing to escape, what else is he willing to do?

Mr. Tweak answers the door, and Craig feels white-hot rage shoot through him as soon as he sees his face. “Hello. Is Tweek here, sir?” he asks, and Mr. Tweak looks at him with pitying eyes, like Craig is the most pathetic thing he’s ever seen.

“Tweek has been missing for weeks, child. Have you just noticed?”

Craig wants to punch him in the face, then, because Tweek hasn’t been missing – he’s been with Craig, seemingly happy and healthy. “I’m sorry. I guess I must have forgotten,” Craig responds coolly, brushing off his question, and sprints off before Mr. Tweak can talk to him anymore. 

Craig searches the town for sixteen hours, until his head is drooping and his eyelids are threatening to shut and crash the car. He allows himself to stop for food at the nearest KFC, and then he naps in his car for three hours before continuing to search. He parks the car near the community center and hops out, deciding that he might have better luck if he looks for Tweek on foot.

“Sweetheart?” he calls. He has a water bottle in his hands and he waves it around, as if Tweek will suddenly decide to come out from seeing that Craig wants him to be healthy. “Honey, where are you? Please come tell me what I did wrong. You don’t have to come home with me if you don’t want to,” he says, but there’s no response. He walks through about half of town before reluctantly driving home for the night. He feels woozy, and it’s making him worry even more about Tweek. At least Craig has food, but he doesn’t know if Tweek is so lucky.

At home, he manages to sleep for only a few hours before waking up from a nightmare; the first one he’s had in over a year. In his dream, Tweek is crying himself to sleep on the sidewalk, his ribs visible through his shirt. He’s cold and achey and Craig can do nothing about it. He wakes up and shouts in frustration, deciding to go up and continue looking.

He spends the next 36 hours searching for Tweek, and he’s calling for him until his voice is hoarse and he’s about to cry from frustration. 

That’s when he hears soft sobbing coming from the playground, one of the only places he hasn’t done a thorough check on. “Honey! Babe, where are you, I’m coming to find you!” he yells, and the sobbing grows louder. He swears he hears his name whispered softly, and he spends the next five minutes tearing through the playground before he finally sees a flash of pale skin and yellow hair under one of the slides.

It’s Tweek, and Craig is horrified.

He’s dirty, his hair greasy and his clothes covered in wet mulch. His ribs are starting to become more visible, and his lips look chapped beyond belief. Craig rushes towards him and Tweek whines. Craig skids to a halt in front of him and drops to his knees, tears sliding down his face. “Oh, fuck, Tweek,” he gasps, his eyes scrunched in a futile attempt to stay stoic. “Honey…”

Tweek scoots towards Craig hesitantly, his arms out as he touches Craig’s shoulders, carefully scooting into his lap. “I’m sorry, please, take me home.”

Craig shakes his head. “No. It’s not your fault. I’m terrible, I made you want to run away. You don’t have to come home with me. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay,” he’s weeping openly, and it’s clear that Tweek has no idea how to respond to something like this. Usually, he’s the one who’s crying. 

“No, no, I want to go home with you, I missed you so much.” Craig stays silent as he hands Tweek a water bottle. Tweek tears off the cap and tries to chug the whole thing, moaning at the taste, but Craig takes it away from him once he’s drunk about half.

“You’ll get sick if you drink too much at once,” Craig explains, and Tweek wraps his arms around him weakly. 

“Take me back to your house,” Tweek mumbles into Craig’s shoulder. “I love you,” he says, quietly, and Craig is crying harder, squeezing Tweek until the smaller boy grunts.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Get in the car and I’ll take you back with me,” Craig says, and this time, Tweek gets into the car without a struggle.

~~~

It takes Craig a few days to get Tweek back to a somewhat healthy state. He brings food up for Tweek frequently, feeding it to him, and makes sure that Tweek drinks enough water with every snack that he has, and Tweek slowly begins to go back to normal.

Craig still refuses to kiss him, and by the fifth day that he’s home, Tweek is whining for Craig’s lips on his, sitting on the bed in the nude. It’s tempting, but Craig doesn’t want to do it.

“Look,” Craig says. “It’s my fault that you left. I shouldn’t have taken you earlier that day. You weren’t ready. I practically forced myself on you.”

Tweek shakes his head frantically. “No, no, it was so good. Please, I need your cock in me. I’ve been thinking about it since you brought me back. I really need you to kiss me, or fuck me, or whatever. I just need to touch you,” Tweek grabs the lube from the dresser and spreads it onto his fingers, pushing them inside his own hole. He stares at Craig while doing so, not even flinching as he wiggles them.

Craig feels himself hardening in his pants, and he sighs. “Do you really want this? You’re not just doing this so I’ll feel better?”

Tweek nods. “I want you to feel better, but this would make me feel better too. Please, please, please.”

Craig smiles slightly. “Okay. Lay on your back, honey,” he says, and Tweek scrambles to comply, pulling his fingers out and laying on his back, spreading his legs so Craig can have better access to his ass. He smears some of the lube on his fingers and replaces Tweek’s with his own, flexing them around until he’s sure that Tweek is ready.

His cock slides against Tweek’s hole as he slowly pushes forward, breaching Tweek’s sensitive hole. He pauses every inch or so, wanting it to be as painless as possible for his lover, who shakes and hooks his legs around Craig’s waist, pushing backwards to take more of him in. Once Craig is all the way in, they both stay still, panting as Tweek reaches up to kiss Craig deeply, opening his mouth to give Craig’s tongue access.

Craig fucks slowly into Tweek until he’s gripping at Craig’s shoulders, begging him to speed up, to pound into him harder.

“You do need to be punished, huh? Running away like that was something that a bad boy would do. Are you a bad boy?” Craig asks. The hickeys have disappeared, and he decides that now is an ideal time to replace them, pushing his teeth into Tweek’s neck as his back arches.

“Yeah, I need to be punished. I was so fucking bad. You need to teach me how to be a good boy,” Tweek moans, pushing his ass back. Craig pinches the skin at his hips and Tweek gasps, his hole clenching around Craig’s dick at the pleasurable pain. 

Craig speeds up his pace, slamming into Tweek until he’s coming, one hand clawing through Tweek’s hair. He yanks it and Tweek comes too, his head falling back. He looks good like this, completely devoid of any stress. “I forgive you, honey,” Craig tells him, and Tweek grins, leaning up to kiss him once more. This time, Craig isn’t afraid that Tweek will run away.

~~~

Tweek’s funeral is held a month after his return to Craig.

There isn’t any body to bury, but there’s still a coffin and everyone still cries over it while some of Tweek’s old classmates shuffle through their index cards and speak insincerely about how great he was.

Craig attends, too, even though he knows that Tweek is asleep in his room, curled up in bed, wrapped in Craig’s old sweatshirt. Tweek helped him pick out a suit from his closet to wear and told him that he looked handsome, leaning up to kiss him before pushing him out the door. The funeral attendees are unsurprisingly sparse. As Stan stumbles over his words near the microphone, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak approach Craig.

“How did you know our son?” Mrs. Tweak asks, dabbing at her eyes with a box of tissues that Mr. Tweak is carrying under one arm. Craig resists the urge to curl his lips up into a sneer. It was pretty simple, really; I stole him and now we’re in a gay relationship.

Instead, he smiles at them politely. “He was a classmate of mine,” Craig says, and when they smile back at him it’s incredibly obvious that they have no idea what he saw them do. “Was Tweek a good son?” 

Mr. and Mrs. Tweek exchange looks. They seem caught on their words for a moment before Mrs. Tweak hurries forward with a “he was a bit of a challenge sometimes, but we loved him”. Craig wants to ask them what their definition of love is, but he can sense that his presence is growing unwanted after his intrusive question. He nods to them and starts walking home, unwilling to stay for the rest of the ceremony. 

Tweek rubs his eyes and groans when Craig enters the room, slamming the door with more force than necessary. He quickly becomes wide awake once he remembers why Craig was gone in the first place, sitting up. “Did they look like they regretted it?” he asks.

Craig shakes his head dryly. “They said that you were a good son, though, if that makes you feel any better.”

Tweek’s fingers reach up to his hair and he grabs a handful, starting to pull. Craig rushes over him to pry the hand away before he can do any lasting damage. “Ugh! It’s so frustrating!” he leans against Craig, pushing his face into the larger boy’s chest. His words come out muffled when he speaks. “I want to talk to them, but I also want them to rot,” he admits. 

Craig can’t relate to the first part, but he definitely wants them to rot. “I could make them,” he says. “Rot, I mean. If you wanted me to.” Tweek hesitates, tilting his head up to stare at Craig. 

“What were you thinking?”

~~~

They walk to the Tweak residence one week later, and Tweek himself is bouncing on his heels, one hand wrapped around Craig’s wrist. He keeps nudging the belt of Craig’s pants with one hand, as if he’s trying to reassure himself that the gun will still be there when the time comes to strike. Craig turns to look at Tweek as his knuckles rest a few inches away from the door. Tweek nods at him, and he knocks.

Mr. Tweak hurries to the door after a minute, and when he opens it his eyes widen. “Get over here!” he shouts to his wife, who rushes to his side. They stare at Tweek for a moment and Mr. Tweak reaches a hand out to touch him, but Tweek flinches back. Craig stands next to them, viewing the interaction.

“Could we come in?” Craig asks. He reaches a hand behind Tweek to stroke his back comfortingly. Tweek leans into this touch, and he tries not to look too smug when he watches Mr. Tweak survey the pair.

“Of course,” Mr. Tweak eventually stammers out, pulling the door open fully and letting them inside. Tweek makes a beeline for the couch, pulling Craig along with him, and they settle down together. He’s trying desperately to slide onto Craig’s lap, aching for positive attention, but Craig gently shoves him off and turns to face Mr. Tweak, who’s sat down on a chair across from them. He takes a deep breath before speaking. “Where were you, son?”

Tweek doesn’t answer and Craig feels a swell of pride. He’s too smart to get caught into this trap; the trap that involves his parents guilt tripping him until he returns back home and his body is covered in bruises again. Craig leans forward, his chin resting in the palms of his hands, and meets Mr. Tweak’s eyes. “I don’t think that’s important right now,” Craig says smoothly. “I think that your history of abusing your son is the more important issue to discuss before I let you have him back.”

He’s not going to let Mr. Tweak have Tweek back, and he’s positive that Tweek doesn’t want that either. They’re attached at the hip these days, and if Tweek pulls a hood over his easily-identified hair and wears baggier clothes, Craig lets him go outside so they can walk around town together, even daring once to go get dinner out. 

Mr. Tweak scoffs. “You’re not going to let him? You don’t own him. He belongs to me and my wife, and we want our son back.” 

Craig tuts. “No. He’s mine now. He wants to be mine now, which is something he never wanted when he was with you. Isn’t that right, honey?” he directs the last part to Tweek, who’s fidgeting anxiously. Tweek jerks his head up and down in a motion resembling a nod and cuddles closer up to Craig. Craig doesn’t have the heart to stop him.

“Tweek.” Mr. Tweak says, and Tweek’s eyes go wide. “You need to talk. You can’t rely on your little friend here to say everything for you.”

Tweek’s hands start to tremble, and he shakes his head. “No.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Mr. Tweak asks, and Tweek glares at him. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t understand! I fucking said ‘no’!” he stands up and points at Mr. Tweak. “I’m so tired of you pretending that I’m stupid! I’m not!” Tweek screams in frustration and stamps his foot. Mrs. Tweak hurries into the room from where she was making coffee at the sound.

“You don’t get to have any control over what I do anymore! I love Craig,” Tweek says, and there are tears in his eyes. “If he didn’t come for me, I might have grown up working at that dumbfuck coffee shop for the rest of my pathetic life. But I have a future now! He loves me, and I’m staying with him. You can’t take me away from the only part of my life that I’ve actually been happy in.”

He turns away from his parents, staring at the ground. “I don’t know why I came here. I guess that I just wanted to see if you guys regretted it, but Craig was right. You don’t.” He takes a deep breath and turns to Craig. “You can do it now.”

Craig nods. “Of course, babe.” He pulls the gun out and cocks it, pointing it at Mr. Tweak. He doesn’t say anything when he shoots him, and Mrs. Tweak only gets halfway through her scream before he’s taken her down too. He walks over to their bodies and kicks them a few times, shooting Mr. Tweak once more as he twitches, the life fading out of him.

Tweek stares down at the bodies of his parents, and Craig comes up to stand next to him, tucking the gun back into his belt. “I’m glad it’s over,” Tweek says. He turns to Craig and hugs him for a moment, the two of them swaying in the blood-stained room.

~~~

“Honey!” Craig whispers, prodding his husband. “Do you know what day it is?”

Tweek wipes the sleep from his eyes and sits up. “I was having such a good dream. You’re a dick,” he says, but his lips are quirked into a smile. He pulls out his phone and checks the date, processing it.

Craig spreads his arms. “It’s been ten years since your funeral!” 

Tweek starts laughing, reaching out to grab Craig and pull him into bed. He wraps his legs around Craig’s waist and kisses him. They lay on the bed and kiss for a while before Craig reluctantly sits up. “I made a reservation for brunch for us, if you still want to go,” he offers, and Tweek shakes his head.

“I’d rather stay home with you,” Tweek admits, and Craig nudges him.

“So inconvenient,” he grumbles playfully, cancelling his reservation over text. “You make my life so hard.”

“You love it,” Tweek says, lifting his arms as Craig works to pull his shirt off. He sighs contentedly as Craig presses his lips to Tweek’s neck, dragging his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” Craig says, aware that he sounds incredibly cheesy. Tweek grins at him, leaning back and kicking the comforter off the bed, and Craig suddenly doesn’t care. “I do.”


End file.
